


This Life of Mine

by captainsourwolf



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Anal Fingering, Anonymity, Camboy!Link, Cumshot, Eventual Smut, Fantasizing, Fingerfucking, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mutual Pining, Only fans, Panties, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Twitter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:48:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28160049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainsourwolf/pseuds/captainsourwolf
Summary: It’s so easy to pretend, even for a little while, that his friend is here with him...close. If he closes his eyes and focuses he can almost hear the clanking of a belt buckle and the thud of denim hitting the floor, the squeaky hinge on the shower door when it opens, the softsnickof the latch closing. Hands ghost over his shoulders and lips follow....For a second Link forgets what he’s doing and forgets about the cameras. In his mind, he’s tipping his head back onto a strong shoulder.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin & Link Neal, Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Comments: 28
Kudos: 96





	1. Showering

**Author's Note:**

> This is purely self indulgent nonsense based off the Vote Like a Beast livestream when Link was showering and raking in the donations. 
> 
> Not entirely sure of a posting schedule. I have no self control and was ready to post this because I'm super proud of this idea. But I'm on winter break right now and will hopefully be getting chapters out pretty fast. 
> 
> If you like, please comment and kudos! I love comments, they keep me motivated to keep working on my fics. 
> 
> Huge thanks to my cheerleader Alisha! (castielspsychnerd) and my beta Kristina (serendipitous-mythicality). They've been huge in helping me out and yelling at me and making this read much better. <3
> 
> Enjoy!!!
> 
> * * *

Link doesn’t usually have a problem with a long day’s work. In fact, he loves it. Over the years, everyone has come to know him as a work-a-holic, someone that would live at his desk if he could. He doesn’t mind the grind of a long day behind the desk and cameras or in pitch meetings. He’ll even take a quiet day working hunched over his keyboard. None of it bothers him.

But today was a _long_ day. An unusually long day that started an hour earlier than he and Rhett usually begin and didn’t end until well past six. Everything seemed to go wrong: a camera overheated and set filming back by at least an hour, he spilled his coffee on his favorite jeans, Rhett was grumpy after hearing about another failed pitch meeting, and the list goes on. A typical work day has plenty of frustrations, but this one seemed to never end. 

Finally home, Link knows exactly what will make a shitty day better. A _shower_. A hot shower with his favorite scented body wash, a few candles to help him relax, and his fluffiest towel. It’s the best way to end the longest day he can remember having in years. After a few welcome home pets for Jade, he makes his way upstairs to the master bath. He flips the lights on and sheds his jacket, kicks his shoes into the corner and toes off his socks to toss into the laundry basket. 

He’s meticulous as he makes his way through the bathroom, lighting a couple of candles along the way. The bottles in the shower are arranged exactly the way he likes them. The towel is placed within reach for his post-shower ritual. Jade watches from the doorway, her ears perked up in curiosity. Smiling, he shoos her out of the room and closes the door partway behind her. Satisfied that everything is as it should be, he rummages in the top drawer below the sink until he finds what he’s looking for. 

This is the fun part. The part where he gets to relax while putting on a show. 

He hadn’t exactly been looking for this, but quickly discovered he’s _good_ at it. He’d stumbled over the site when he was trying to find a hobby, something to keep him occupied during an extended vacation that he and Rhett both needed. Now, months later, he’s found he’s not only good at it but he really enjoys doing it. There are big tips and he has fans that have nothing to do with Good Mythical Morning.

Link looks at the remote in his hand and pushes the on button, remembering where his cameras are and keeping his back to them. The beginning will be edited, of course, but a major part of doing this is being as anonymous as possible. He’s tried this before with only one camera mounted in the room and had to scrap the whole thing because he couldn’t hide his face. Showering for an audience is difficult, but now he has more than one camera set up, it’s easier to edit later. He can film himself from three different angles and clip it all together seamlessly and his fans will be none the wiser about his identity. 

For the next half hour, he isn’t Link Neal, one half of YouTube’s most popular duo. In this bathroom, under these lights and the watchful eyes of three cameras, he’s just a man on someone’s screen whose face they can’t see. 

That in mind, he sets the remote down and turns his back to the room, deciding he’ll take his time for this one. 

Back still turned, he watches the mirror as he begins working on his shirt buttons. The camera can’t see his reflection, but he plays it up anyway and pretends his audience can see the smirk and the wink he throws them when the last button pops free. Imagining their faces, he shoulders his way out of the top slowly and with purpose. The fabric pools just right around his waist before falling off his hands to the floor. 

Link knows he looks good. 

Every inch of smooth, tan skin is on display. Toned arms and back. Everything that’s enticing and lures the fans in. 

With quick fingers, Link unbuttons and unzips his jeans before shimmying them off his hips and down long legs. Stepping out of them nice and slow, he makes sure his ass is noticeable when he bends. He stands up to his full height and lazily stretches--a tease to show off the way his muscles shift under the lights. 

His cock twitches in his briefs in anticipation. 

Keeping the cameras in mind, Link makes his way to the shower and, turning the water on, sets it to the temperature he needs. Steam begins to billow out around the tiled floor after a few seconds, warming the space as he walks in and under the spray. The water is hot, just the way he likes it, and feels good after a long day. Sighing, he stands under the stream and lets it soothe his muscles, all his aching joints.

But after a moment, relaxed and looser than he was before, Link gets on with the show. 

He thoroughly wets his hair then picks out which shampoo he wants, something with a clean and fresh scent, and washes his hair. Finding pleasure in the simple act, he scrubs his fingers through his salt and pepper locks. He can’t help the soft, almost quiet moan that slips out. 

Link takes extra care soaping himself up. Twisting and turning his torso under the water so it runs in rivulets over his muscles, he slowly and sensually cleans himself. A small smile over his face as he thinks about his audience. 

He’s fully aware of his naked body and works the space accordingly. He loves the way it moves, instinctively knowing the right angle to turn so the lights hit him just right. After all, he is a performer and this brings with it a high that leaves his belly twisting and his cock swelling. 

Arousal settling in the pit of his stomach, Link sighs and takes himself in a loose fist, his other hand pressing flat against the tiled wall to keep himself upright. It only takes a few smooth strokes and he’s fully hard in his hand, precum already beading at the tip. He breathes for a moment; his mind drifts, as it always does, to the one thing that always gets his pulse racing in these situations.

_Rhett_.

It’s so easy to pretend, even for a little while, that his friend is here with him... _close_. If he closes his eyes and focuses he can almost hear the clanking of a belt buckle and the thud of denim hitting the floor, the squeaky hinge on the shower door when it opens, the soft _snick_ of the latch closing. Hands ghost over his shoulders and lips follow and he strokes himself tighter, firmer. Link lets out a soft groan and his dick twitches in his hand. 

Rhett’s right here with him, fitting up behind him and pressing his entire body along the length of Link’s backside. He’s smoothing big hands along Link’s sides and around his front, tickling his ribs. Exploring his happy trail. He skirts around his cock with a teasing touch before wrapping his hand around Link’s. 

For a second Link forgets what he’s doing and forgets about the cameras. In his mind, he’s tipping his head back onto a strong shoulder. The fantasy is all too familiar and vivid as he fucks into his own fist. 

Link loses himself in it. 

He can see and feel it all so clearly. Rhett’s hands and his lips on his skin. Rhett’s slick body pressed against his own and Rhett’s cock rutting into the dip of his lower back. 

He moans and strokes faster, cock slick as he works in a steady rhythm. His belly clenches and he digs his fingers into the wet wall. His gaze drops between his legs to watch, to wonder what it would look like-- _feel like_ \--with another hand wrapped around his, helping him get off. 

How big would Rhett’s hand be closed over his? Would it completely cover him? What would his cock look like thrusting in and out of the tunnel their hands would create? Link shudders thinking about it all and another moan slips out. _Fuck_. He’s close. He can feel it building low in his belly, tightening his balls and his thighs. Wouldn’t take much, he thinks. A few firm strokes between the two of them, a twist of the wrist, lips brushing at his ear…

_Cum for me, show ‘em what they’re paying for, baby._

Link shudders and gasps as he cums over his fist and the tiles with two final strokes. A mouth that isn’t there curls up in a grin against his cheek, murmuring words of encouragement as he finishes with a moan. Belatedly remembering the cameras, he bites his lip to stop the name that nearly slips out.  


Phantom hands steady his hips and squeeze, a kiss is brushed on his shoulder, a thumb sweeps over his cockhead and catches the last weak dribble. 

Link swallows past the sudden lump in his throat and tries not to think about Rhett licking his thumb clean. _Tries_. 

He leans against the wall, sated and boneless. Mesmerized, he watches the way his release drips down his dick and over his knuckles only to be washed away by the water and down the drain. 

As he comes back to himself he’s aware that the water has begun to run cold, steam dissipating entirely, and goosebumps pimple on his arms and legs. 

Link closes his eyes and shakes his head to rid himself of the fantasy as he quickly rinses and shuts the shower off. Towel in hand, he makes a show of drying off and wrapping the soft material around his waist, still careful not to show his face. He’ll have to pay extra attention to the other cuts, just to make sure, but for now he’s satisfied he got some decent footage to upload. 

With the cameras shut down and the lights turned off, Link yanks on a clean pair of briefs and makes his way to the office. 

He begins his regular routine after filming and, while the footage is uploading to his computer, goes to get his phone from downstairs. He pours a glass of wine to wind down while he’s at it. Jade perks up when he walks into the kitchen so he pats her head gently and rubs the spot behind her ears she likes so much. 

It usually doesn’t take long to upload everything. Link can get a glass or two of wine down by the time he’s ready to begin editing and tonight's no different. Settling into his office chair with Jade in his lap, he sets his drink on the desk and begins. It has become an easy process over time, one that he and Rhett’s past days of doing everything themselves has facilitated. 

He spends a few minutes going over everything. He picks out the best angles, lighting, and sound--everything that makes up a great video. Jade naps in his lap as he works and his phone lays silent. It’s easy to get into a mindless routine making these videos. Sometimes becoming so absorbed in what he’s doing that he doesn’t notice when his phone rings or Jade leaves him for something more interesting to do.

Like now. 

His phone has been vibrating incessantly on the tabletop and when he finally notices, there’s three missed calls from Rhett. Gut clenching, Link is tempted to ignore him and pretend he was already asleep. The screen lights up with a text message and he can’t ignore it; it’s Rhett after all. His best friend. The same best friend he jerked off to not too long ago. A twinge of guilt has him snatching the phone off the desk. 

_i know you’re awake. my fridge is empty. street tacos?_

Link laughs. He can’t deny Rhett the chance to get food no matter what time it is. The guilt eases some as he responds with an affirmative. Quickly he puts a few final touches on the video and prepares it for uploading to his account. It will be complete and ready for posting by the time he gets back after meeting up with Rhett.

Finished and satisfied with his work, he deposits Jade gently on the floor and goes to put some clothes on. 

Within twenty minutes Rhett is there and knocking loudly on the front door. Link grabs his things and bounds down the steps, finding the door already open with Rhett leaning against the frame, waiting. He beams when he sees Link and the clench in Link’s gut twists harder. But he smiles back and follows Rhett to his car, ignoring the guilt. 

His imagination may be good, but it’s just that-- _his imagination_. It’s all in his head, there to help him get off when he’s filming, and it has to stay that way. 

Rhett can _never_ know.


	2. Unrequited Attraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BlueEyes78
> 
> Intrigued, Rhett selects the name. He’s taken to a locked profile with subscription options and a single social media link. Not ready to subscribe to the first person he finds, Rhett decides to check out the Twitter page being promoted. 
> 
> Anticipation is already building in his gut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the love on chapter 1!!!! 
> 
> I haven't figure out yet how long this fic will be? Probably not horribly long like These Bones, but not too short. So I hope everyone sticks with me through a weird posting schedule i.e. one that doesn't exist and not knowing how long it'll be. I'm really enjoying this fic, it's not usually something I would write but here I am! Also, huge apologies for the cheesy ass usernames I've given these two. 
> 
> And again huge love and thanks to Alisha and Kristina for all their help and cheerleading! <3

Thursday nights have always been for them. 

Just him and Link huddled in their office, and now, more often than not, the creative house. There’s always plenty of beer and the time to work without interruptions. 

Rhett has always believed their creativity really thrives during these times alone. As the years have progressed and their business has grown, he’s come to believe it even more. 

But more than that, his attraction has grown. 

He figures it was a long time coming. Two people spending as much time together as they do--something is bound to happen. Feelings, attraction, the occasional awkward boner are all things Rhett has grown accustomed to since they initiated Thursday nights. 

He isn’t sure exactly when it started, but he knows two things: it’s more than attraction and it’s unrequited. 

Link doesn’t have an inkling of knowledge about Rhett’s predicament. 

If he did, Rhett is sure their lifelong friendship would end. That isn’t a risk he’s willing to take. Link is too important to him to lose over any faint hope that his feelings might actually be returned.

So, he takes every twist in his gut, every shiver up his spine, as well as every bit of warmth when they touch and he shoves it all down to the deepest part of himself. Some days it hurts, other days it’s manageable. 

Lately… it has been more difficult than usual. 

After thirty plus years, their friendship is the strongest it’s ever been. Rhett knows this, but he also can’t deny that each smile makes his palms sweat. A single brush of his fingers against Link’s own has his pulse jumping. Stolen glances across the desk, the office, the studio, _anywhere_ causes Rhett’s breath to catch in his throat and his heart to race with a tiny bit of hope. 

Most days Rhett feels crazy. Link would never reciprocate his feelings. And yet he still tends to that little spark of hope. 

Today is one of those days. 

They’ve been at the creative house for an hour and a half, much longer than they normally set aside for Thursday nights. Link has been in an unusually good mood since he arrived. His knee presses into Rhett’s lightly, a warmth there that travels all the way up Rhett’s thigh and settles in his belly. Occasionally, he looks up at Rhett from their work and grins softly. 

Most of all he has a glow about him. 

It isn’t unusual for Link to come to work in moods like this and it seems to be happening more often over the last few months. Rhett would be concerned if it weren’t for the fact he loves seeing his friend so happy. Whatever he’s doing, Rhett hopes it continues. 

“Rhett?”

Rhett blinks rapidly at the sound of Link’s voice and his cheeks heat at being caught zoning out. 

Link’s hand waves in front of his face in an attempt to get his attention. “Earth to Rhett…,“ he tries again. 

Rhett catches his hand, fingers wrapping Link’s wrist completely, tightly. Link’s pulse jumps under his fingertips then settles. “Sorry. I’m here,” he says. He clears his throat and lets go of Link. “Spaced out for a minute.”

Link chuckles, “Clearly! Where’d you go?” He’s grinning again, bright and almost blinding. 

Rhett has to look away and focus his attention on the notepad in his lap. Grabbing his pen off the coffee table, he ignores Link’s question and pretends to write something important down. The other man finally sighs and shrugs, getting back to his own work on his laptop. 

When he’s sure it’s safe to do so, Rhett glances over. A stubborn lock of hair has fallen in Link’s face. He watches Link run his fingers through it, trying to push it back into place, but it flops back into his eyes. Rhett battles the urge to reach over and do it for him. He fights back the desire to touch him - maybe cup his cheek, run a thumb across his bottom lip. 

Rhett shakes his head, willing the urges away, and forces his gaze on the paper in front of him. To distract himself, he alternates between clicking his pen, tapping it on his knee, and chewing on the end of it. His knee bounces nervously the whole while. 

He hits Link’s knee with pretty much every other bounce, causing Link to finally glare and place a hand firmly on Rhett’s leg. The bouncing stops and a new warmth spreads where Link’s palm rests. He can feel it through his jeans, heating his skin. 

“I’m not getting anything done,” Rhett blurts out. Standing quickly, he dislodges Link’s hand gently in an effort to remain nonchalant and crosses the room to pack his bag. He fidgets with the loose strap on his backpack, staring over Link’s shoulder instead of at his face. He picks a spot on the wall behind Link and speaks to it, “We can finish this up another time.” Carefully, avoiding the confusion on Link’s face, he slides his laptop in its case. 

“You okay,” Link asks. He pushes his own computer away but otherwise doesn’t move. “You’ve been all weird and fidgety tonight. What’s wrong?” Link squints at him curiously.

Swallowing hard under the scrutiny, Rhett backs towards the door, reaching blindly behind himself to grab the knob. “Uh, I’m fine. Just feeling..uh...weird today, I guess.” He shrugs and his fingers flex around the door handle. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” he mutters before retreating out into the night.

He’s in his car and gone without a second thought.

* * *

At home, Rhett changes into a pair of sweatpants and a worn tee before settling into his office chair with a heavy sigh and a drink. The computer hums to life and he drinks his beer while he waits for a blank web page to load. 

He needs to expel some energy, get rid of that buzz under his skin from too much time spent in close proximity with Link lately. He doesn’t know exactly what he’s looking for until he’s typing it into the search bar: onlyfans.com.

They’ve made enough jokes about the site over the last few months Rhett figures he might as well see what it’s all about. Porn sites are too much and leave him unsatisfied more often than not. Maybe this one can give him some relief, something to take away that itch that’s settled under his skin. He’s flirted with the webpage a few times, typing it in only to clear it out seconds later.

Tonight, Rhett doesn’t think about it. This time, when the homepage loads, he doesn’t waste another second before creating an account. With his privacy in mind, he uses an email separate from his usual others for work and personal use. The password is easy to remember, in case he wants to back out and delete everything. Building the profile only takes a couple of minutes, but he trips up when he has to come up with a username.

He thinks for a minute and finally comes up with something simple without revealing anything about himself: jollybeardedgiant77. He can’t help but laugh as he finishes the profile and logs in for the first time.

The site is...intimidating, if Rhett’s being honest. There are a lot of features to consider and navigate. He skips the rest of his profile; he isn’t here to promote himself or create videos. He’s here to finally find release. 

So he starts scrolling, scanning over the various ways to find what he’s looking for. Overwhelmed by all the possibilities, he finally sees a shoutout page. Curious, he selects it and finds himself browsing through creators calling out others. There are so many usernames that he doesn’t even know where to begin. Every shoutout has links to the other content creator’s official page as well as their social media handles. Their accounts are apparently heavily promoted. 

Rhett finishes his beer, contemplating where he wants to start. He mindlessly scrolls while he thinks and sorts through all his options. It isn’t until he’s been doing this for a minute or so that he sees one common user multiple times. Praise for him coming from creators and subscribers alike.

BlueEyes78

Intrigued, Rhett selects the name. He’s taken to a locked profile with subscription options and a single social media link. Not ready to subscribe to the first person he finds, Rhett decides to check out the Twitter page being promoted. 

Anticipation is already building in his gut.

When @BlueEyes78 loads, he has to stop for a moment to catch his breath. He’s suddenly nervous about what he’ll find. Will he see a face, someone that looks just like Link? He shouldn’t expect much from the first account that’s caught his eye, but anticipation rises all the same thinking about what he’s going to find.

It almost looks like any other normal Twitter profile at first glance. 

There’s no profile picture, but the bio lists the username, subscription pricing, and the minimum tipping amount. Everything someone would need to know about what they’re getting into is in one bulleted list. The OnlyFans webpage is attached via link. 

Until he scrolls. 

Rhett’s breath catches. 

Pinned at the top of the page is a video clip along with a short description telling everyone to come check out the newest video. The thumbnail of a tanned, wet backside has him quickly clicking on the play button. 

He watches, pulse beginning to race, as the guy in the video gets himself off, face expertly turned away from the cameras, arm working and muscles flexing. The clip is short, only a few seconds long, but it’s enough to make Rhett want more and now. 

Swallowing past the lump growing in his throat, Rhett keeps going. He discovers pictures and videos alike that make his palms sweat and his pants become uncomfortably tight. He doesn’t know where to start with all the treasures he’s found. 

Finally, he stops on the first series of pictures that catch his eye, a few tweets down, of a lean body showing off a pair of lacy, blue panties. In the first, he’s sitting, legs spread, fabric stretched over a hard cock. One where his backside is to the camera, lace lifting a perky ass. In yet another, he’s standing facing the camera, cockhead peeking past the waistband--a sticky trail over smooth, hairless skin. The pictures are flattering from every angle and Rhett’s cheeks flush the longer he stares at them. 

The next tweet is another set of pictures. He’s sitting in all of them, wearing nothing but a pair of tight black briefs pulled down his toned and smooth thighs. He’s fully erect, hand holding his cock angled so viewers get a good view of his size and length. In the last shot, it’s clearly his own cum running over his knuckles, release dripping down his wrist onto a taut thigh. 

Rhett is more than intrigued now. Half hard in his pants, his heart is pounding in his chest just from a few pictures. Without any discernible features so far, he’s already attracted to this mysterious man. Based on what he’s seen so far, this guy could be a good Link clone.

The similarities are amazing. 

After a quick moment to slow his racing heart, Rhett keeps scrolling. There are even more alluring pictures. Some boast about a new toy or new underwear, while others celebrate this man’s release. They all have some witty caption and his OnlyFans link to entice viewers to click and subscribe. 

Rhett doesn’t just yet. 

Pictures are good and they certainly have his blood hot and his dick interested, but he wants more than that. The shower clip wasn’t enough so he searches for more video clips. When he finds one, he licks his lips and reaches for his beer only to remember he had emptied it a long time ago. 

Wishing he had more liquid courage, he taps the play button. 

This one has BlueEyes78 on his knees on the floor, hand a blur on his cock. The clip lasts longer than the shower one and Rhett thanks both above and below that he’s getting to witness this guy jerking himself off. It’s almost enough to have him close Twitter and subscribe then and there. 

Still, he waits, watching as the guy stills, thighs clenching, and cums over his fist with a low moan. In the next second it’s over and the small screen goes black. 

_Fuck_. 

By now, Rhett is painfully hard. He squeezes his cock through his pants to give himself some relief. More than half afraid that, if he continues, he’s going to cum in his pants. Completely untouched like he’s a teenager once again. He breathes deep and shoves his chair away from the desk to stand and begin pacing. 

Why is he doing this? Wouldn’t it be much easier to just tell Link about his attraction so he can be let down easy? Wouldn’t that be better than seeking out a lookalike online, one that will only just have to do? 

Rhett rolls his head back and forth slowly, followed by his shoulders, to relieve some of the tension that’s settled there. He’s turned on and tense and needs a release that only one person can give him. 

However, Link will never know. He can never know. It would ruin them. Their business, their friendship, _everything_. 

Mind made up, Rhett plops back down into the chair and immediately clicks on the OnlyFans profile link in the last video clip. He’s transported back to the locked page where he hesitates for only a second before clicking on the blue subscribe button. 

He’s hit with a rush as he follows the instructions on the screen. This is his secret now. Something he normally wouldn’t do, but needs to do in order to keep his attraction to Link under control. 

Satisfaction with the barest hint of guilt blooms in his chest as he begins exploring. 

Shaking most of the guilt away, he pulls up the shower video, dick throbbing in the confines of his pants at the sight before him. He can do this. It’s easy. Link won’t know and he won’t have to tell him about this one-sided attraction.

Best of all, he can find the relief he’s so desperately seeking. 

With that in mind, Rhett sits back and gets ready for a show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr at captainsourwolf.tumblr.com


	3. Dreams and Fantasies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he’s finally heading out door with his things in hand, his phone buzzes. All texts from Rhett and Stevie wondering where he is. 
> 
> Link ignores them all and leaves, ache in his chest subtle but still there.

The problem with fantasies is how often they worm their way into Link’s dreams. 

There have been many nights where he’s been transported from one dream to the next, only to find himself under Rhett’s hands.

Callused hands exploring all the right places.

His favorites are the ones where he’s bracketed by strong thighs, being driven crazy by a bearded mouth. Every single time, he wakes with a gasp, hard in his briefs and skin sticky with sweat. 

His imagination isn’t meant to leave him aching for someone he can’t have.

Instead, it’s supposed to be a means to get off, to encourage people to tip more when he really gets going. He’s learned to use these dreams to fuel his creativity and to create more realistic fantasies while he’s filming.

He knows Rhett has noticed his weirdly good mood. Usually, Link’s a ball of anxiety and nervous energy; he can tell his best friend has grown concerned with the gradual shift over the last few months. If he only knew the reasons for it, he would probably run for the hills and take his friendship with him. 

Link won’t let this deter him. He’ll deal with the dreams and the ache they leave in his chest the easiest way he knows how: a video. 

The dream was too real this time and as he lies in bed, half-hard and uncomfortable, he can’t help the uneasy feeling settling in his nerves. With a heavy sigh, he scrubs a hand over his face, trying to ignore the throbbing between his legs. He only has to close his eyes and he can still see it all so clearly.

This doesn’t help the situation any.

His arousal spikes, cock twitching in interest at the ghost of a memory. There’s only one way to settle this.

Link wasn’t planning on filming anything before work. However, if he’s going to get through the day without any issues, he needs to get it all out somehow. Rhett would kill him for setting back their schedule just because he can’t get himself together long enough to work. That in mind, he adjusts himself in his underwear, gritting his teeth at the brief but much-needed contact, and grabs the things he needs.

He isn’t even sure where this one will go. This won’t be his normal set up where he knows exactly which angles work best, the supplies he needs beforehand, and which cameras he’ll use. He’s going in mostly blind.

Right now, he doesn’t care very much.

Rolling to reach into his bedside table, he grabs both the bottle of lube stored there and the remote beside it. 

Taking a second to think, Link stares up at the ceiling contemplating which cameras to turn on. Should he just turn them all on and worry about hiding his face later in editing? Seems easier and he can get to the good stuff faster; his dick throbs in agreement. 

Mind made up, he pushes the button that turns on all the cameras in his bedroom. It’s kind of nice not having to worry about hiding right now, not when he knows he can just do it later after he’s spent and satisfied. 

Hopefully.

With everything he needs ready, Link sighs and makes himself more comfortable. The sheets are too much so he kicks them off then reaches behind his head to fluff his pillow. He fidgets for a minute, shuffling around to try and find that spot that makes his entire body melt, but it’s no use. He’s gotten too far in his head already.

Grunting in frustration, he punches his pillow one more time. The camera overhead blinks red and the bottle of lube resting on top of the blankets suddenly seems huge and daunting. The blankets around him are restricting and too hot. If he could just close his eyes, relax a bit….

For a minute, he breathes deeply, really feeling it down in his belly, and lets it wash over him until he’s fully relaxed into the sheets. The hand on his sternum is grounding but light, a simple reminder he’s in his own bed, awake and present. 

It’s easy after that to slip into the fantasy.

He hums in contentment as he drags his fingertips lightly across his body, goosebumps pimpling his skin as he goes. He works his way over his chest, dragging his thumb over one nipple, sucking in a shuddering breath at the feeling. Trailing down his torso, taking his time, he’s teasing what’s to come. 

Building anticipation.

Link toys with the waistband of his underwear briefly, taking a second to breathe again, before slipping his hand inside and wrapping it around himself. He’s fully erect, skin hot to the touch as he strokes his cock. He thumbs the slit to catch the precum that squeezes out, spreads it around his head. 

Link is just getting reacquainted with himself, growing needy for someone else’s touch.

In his dreams, this is where Rhett often comes in.

He squeezes around the base of his dick once and then releases his hold. Hands going to his waistband, he carefully tugs them down over his hips and crotch, lifting to shove them over his ass. When he settles back against the bed, he imagines a pair of green-grey eyes peering up at him, waiting patiently.

Hands that aren’t there smooth across his thighs, close around his own hands to help him shed his briefs the rest of the way off, and then the hands are gone. His underwear lands somewhere on the floor and Link sighs out a soft moan, retreating into his mind. His cock twitches against his belly, smears more precum along his happy trail. He runs his fingers through it and takes hold of himself once more, using the mess to slick up his cock. 

He thinks of Rhett in that moment.

Rhett lying on his front, mouth tantalizingly close to Link’s hand that’s currently stroking along his length. But he doesn’t take him into his mouth, not like Link so desperately wants. Instead, he nibbles along his inner thighs and presses his hands into his hips to hold him down.

Link grasps at the sheets, burying his grip into the softness below, and wishes he had a thick head of hair to fist instead.

Moaning, he speeds up his strokes.

It’s too easy to imagine lips brushing across the top of his left thigh, closer to the junction where thigh meets pelvis. Closer still until those same lips are kissing the crease between his cock and balls.

He blows out an unsteady breath. 

Rhett’s here. He’s _here_.

Link can feel his strong grip forcing his legs open, fitting in between them. He’s tugging him down, sliding his body down the bed in a desperate attempt to have him closer. Then he’s _there_ , wet heat punching the breath from Link’s lungs and nails digging into bony hips too hard.

Link’s pulse flutters and his abs clench as he moans louder, tightening his fist around his length.

_You taste good, baby_ , muttered into his belly when Rhett lets Link’s dick slip from his mouth.

Link wants to laugh; he shouldn’t be surprised anymore at the things that come out of Rhett’s mouth, even when he isn’t really here. Instead, he grits his teeth and runs his fingers through the slick dribbling down his dick in a sticky mess. 

That wet heat is back, closing over the head of his cock, suckling lightly.

More precum drips out over his knuckles. Link stills his hand and fucks into his fist, slowly at first, wondering what Rhett’s mouth would _really_ feel like sucking him off.

In his head, Rhett is an expert at it.

Soft, warm mouth and a tongue that alternates between too gentle and just firm enough. Perfect suction and speed that drives Link to the edge multiple times before backing off each time. He’d know every button to push, every spot to kiss and lick and--

The thought is almost too much, making his pulse jump and his balls tighten. He has to stop to catch his breath for a second before he cums. Link doesn’t want to finish yet. He’s only barely started.

He slows the movement of his hips and swallows hard, willing down the intensity of his arousal.

Link calms down enough to grab the bottle of lube with his clean hand. As he’s opening the bottle and squirting some onto his palm, his mind drifts for a moment. To Rhett drawing nonsensical patterns on his stomach and hips. Waiting patiently, pads of his fingers pulling forth soft moans and shivers. More gentle kisses and bites along Link’s inner thighs. Firm hands gripping him under the knees, spreading his legs further apart to make room. 

Opening his eyes, Link groans at the sight of no one looming over him grinning wickedly as they hold him open.

He drags a finger through the lube. When he reaches between his legs, he thinks about how easy it would be for Rhett to fit there, to tease around his rim with his thumb. 

Taking a breath, Link presses his middle finger inside slowly, enjoying the stretch and slight burn. It’s been a while since he last did this, but the familiar tingle that starts in his spine and worms its way through his limbs feels like an old friend.

He huffs a moan and presses deeper. 

Hands flit around his waist as feather light touches ghost over the length of his cock. Link bites his lip while Rhett sucks a mark into his hip.

Link adds a second finger and his brows knit together feeling the stretch. He loses himself in his imagination every time and this time is no different. He fucks himself open, eyes closed tightly, mind reeling with images of Rhett doing this.

Rhett looming over him, holding him down, whispering filthy things that make his chest ache and his cock leak on his stomach.  
Link takes himself in hand, whimpering in relief. 

Rhett’s fingers are thicker than his. Link just knows he would stretch him further, hit him deeper, and make him feel wrecked as he’s fingerfucked by his best friend.

Link crooks his fingers and brushes his prostate, precum drooling out over his fist as he does it again. He keeps his eyes closed and strokes his cock faster in time with the pace of his other hand. 

He’s so close.

His thighs tremble under the pressure of a body that isn’t there. His abs clench. It won’t take much more.

For a brief moment, he remembers his future audience and a little grin turns up his mouth as he twists his fingers just right and his whole body shakes. A warmth blooms in his groin, settling deep in his belly and igniting his nerves. 

In his dreams, all it would take is Rhett sucking him down, wet and messy and two fingers deep. But he isn’t in his dreams, he’s here in his bed and the other man is a mile away in his own home.

Instead, he fucks himself on his own hand and thumbs that one spot on the head of his cock he loves so much. 

Moaning high and loud, Link cums in thick spurts over his fist, hole clenching around his digits like he’s stuffed full with a cock. He tenses up, curls in on himself some, and bites his lip so hard he’s sure it’s going to bleed. There’s a name on the tip of his tongue but he keeps it at bay, though it doesn’t stop him from thinking he can hear a chuckle, a whispered encouragement when he finally finishes and slumps back to the bed with a grunt. 

Link groans as he pulls his fingers free and wipes the mess on his thigh; he’ll clean up in a few minutes. He can’t help running them through the streaks on his torso, a shiver running up his spine.

Imaginary kisses are pressed along his skin, from his spent cock to his hip. Fluttering across his belly, tongue licking up pearly drops, and up to his neck before finally landing on his lips.

Except, _no_ , they aren’t there. 

He throws an arm over his face. A blush of embarrassment and shame heats his already flushed cheeks. He loves the release but despises the after effects. He can’t stand the lingering ache in his chest for something he can’t have, the phantom touches he swears he can feel every time.

It’s too real and yet not real enough. 

Link hates it.

With a heavy sigh, he rolls out of bed, wincing at the tacky lube sticking to his inner thighs and the cum drying on his skin. He turns off the cameras and tosses the bottle back into the bedside drawer before standing and stretching. Glancing at the clock, he sees he has half an hour before he absolutely has to be at the studio. Forty-five minutes if he takes his time in the shower. 

An extra long shower appeals to him more than his need to be on time. Mind made up, Link quickly strips the bedding off his mattress and shoves it all into the hamper for later. 

He goes through the motions of getting ready - shower, hair, teeth, and late breakfast smoothie.

When he’s finally heading out door with his things in hand, his phone buzzes. All texts from Rhett and Stevie wondering where he is.

Link ignores them all and leaves, ache in his chest subtle but still there.


End file.
